Remember a while back when I told you that, coming soon-ishly, at a random interval in time with no warning, there would be a special surprise Lansposito oneshot from Lanie's POV [loosely]? XD Well, here ya go. ENJOY! And I, as always, do not own Castle. Though oh, how I wish. ^_^
Oh - and, the title of this piece is a lyric from "1 Thing" by Amerie, which, to me, is basically Lanie's Espo-related theme song. ;D
The scream of the alarm clock was a very unwelcome noise right now.
Like every other day on the calendar, the little devil-device went off at seven A.M. precisely, sending a harsh buzz to fill the morning quiet in her room, overriding the calm city sounds outside her half-open window…and, let's face it: being generally annoying. If Writerboy was half this intrusive when it came to Beckett, then Lanie was seriously starting to understand Kate's deal. Because this clock was gnawing on her last good nerve.
After the third or fourth blare, the M.E. stretched a dark manicured hand out from her cover cocoon and smacked the top - essentially the 'die' button - until it shut up its whining. Letting out a groan half-muffled by pillow, she allowed herself a last couple moments to be comatose before death-duty called. Hey, nothing about being hauled out of a great sleep was fair.
Then, "Mm, tell me it's not seven o'clock" came from behind her.
And then it was all coming back to her. Lanie let herself smile at the sound of his voice, all morning-groggy and last-night-exhausted; as in, low enough that she knew without looking that his eyes weren't even open yet. It was a cute combination on him.
"Mm-hm, unfortunately it is," she said reluctantly. "And you're gonna be a whole lot later if you don't get back to your own apartment about…ten minutes ago." Not that she wanted him to leave. But there was a thing or two to be said for cat-and-mouse…plus, y'know. Logic. Stupid, stupid logic.
Suddenly, the reason why she'd slept so well was made very very clear, as she felt his arm tighten around her waist, whether consciously or not, his voice making its way to her again. Lanie reminded the little butterflies in her stomach that she was trained to do serious damage with medical tools, as useless as those threats usually were. "Brought a change of clothes this time. What'd you think was in the duffle - severed head?"
Doctor Parish didn't dare risk letting him one-up her by actually turning over to look at him. The man may have been a bull at work, but he definitely knew how to be a puppy. And she definitely wasn't going to be scratching behind any ears by giving ground in the form of a reflexive smile. "All right, fine - then you'll be late if you don't get up outta bed. Lazy." Then, with a chuckle, she added, "And after all that time with Castle I wouldn't be too surprised."
The clock mocking her - evilly, kindergarten-style - she sat up and started to lift the detective's arm off her, but he didn't budge. "Read my lips. Uh, no."
He had an 'oh really' look waiting for him. "You're kidding, right?"
"Do I look like I wanna go anywhere?"
Well neither do I, but you're not hearin' that… "Javier," she sighed - not bothering, by the way, to notice just how easily she'd slipped into calling him that outside of work. Away from the others…and people who might tell the others. Kind of like now. And she liked it. But he wasn't hearing that either, of course, not if she had any say.
There was a laugh behind his voice that went on her list too. "No, I'm not playin.'"
"Neither am I, now get off me."
Rolling her eyes and trying not to smile too loudly - because what on earth would that do to his ego, besides destroy the planet - Lanie planted a hand on his chest, leaned in for a kiss…and then shoved him backward and stood up, walking over to her dresser. Take that. He wasn't the only one with tricks up his sleeve. Well…metaphorical sleeve; he was still shirtless at the moment. And she'd be lying to say that wasn't a fun clarification to make. Hey, who knew what the people you worked with were workin' with all those years?
Not trying not to smile at all, Javier stole her pillow and flopped onto his stomach with his head at the foot of the bed. "Evil," he said, adopting a stage-whisper of a 'scorned' voice that somewhere, Martha Rodgers was applauding. "You are pure-spawned unadulterated evil for that." Mock-casually, he threw in, "Y'know, just so you know."
"Oh, I know. Trust me."
"Why am I really not finding that hard to believe?"
"Because you and I both know it." Why was she tempted to turn around and throw a wink at him over her shoulder just now? So glad she resisted that urge. It would have made playing it Antarctica-cool later on a whole lot more difficult.
Not that it was so easy as it was. They should both should've been getting Oscars for this. Emmys, at least.
Standing there in her oversize pink Tweety Bird t-shirt and silk boyshorts - as in the women's kind, bought and paid for and prepackaged courtesy of Hanes; Lanie Parish was not bumming clothes, here, thank you - it didn't take a genius to figure out where Javier's attention was. There were two options: A, he was watching her; B, he was watching her - or, for the contrarians out there who like a third option, C, he was watching her. Having brain cells meant that Lanie didn't have to turn around to know that.
She still had her back to him when she threw a playfully-reprimanding glance over her shoulder. "Stop watchin' me."
"Can't. You walk cute."
"Okay, now you sound like a creeper. And flattery will get you…almost nowhere." Well, she had to throw in the 'almost,' didn't she? Hel-lo. Take a look around the room, world.
He seemed to pick up on that. And enjoy it. "Mm-hm. Clearly." The boy earned a glare for that little implication there, but it was a flash in the pan. Oh well. Forced it anyway. "Come on - why don't you stay home today? Can't tell me you never played hooky."
All right, let's see. A day killing time with Javi versus drawers full of dead dudes… Never before had a single though been loaded with so much sarcasm. Sure, so she might prefer the first one; it wasn't going to pay her rent, now was it? Lanie pulled a magenta-ish blouse from the back of her closet and gave it her only semblance of an expression as she answered that. "Psh. Not for you."
"Sorry, it's how I roll, Detective."
"You can't tell me you didn't have fun last night," he reminded her. Jokingly, he added, "Don't make me have to cross-check."
The M.E. planted a hand on her hip and half-turned toward him. "With who?"
He shrugged. Eyes on his face, good girl. "Bartender, neighbors - "
"Okay, you know what?" Lanie held up both hands and went back to her dresser. "Nevermind; just forget I ever asked."
"And besides, Bond, wouldn't that be a little, oh, I don't know, suspicious if we both call in sick on the same day?"
Javier raised his eyebrows, not that she was watching. "You think they know somethin'?"
Men were dumb sometimes. "I think you work in a room full of detectives and if nobody knows knows, somebody's at least gotta be suspicious by now. Especially after that little 'incident' you pulled last week."
In the glance Lanie threw to her floor mirror, she caught him putting on his big tough self-defense face, pointing at her like she'd just stolen his watch. "Hey, I didn't like that tech kid flirtin' with you, all right?"
"He was twenty-one. And an intern!"
"So? He was gettin' fresh. Interns, they're there to learn, I taught 'im a lesson."
"You made him cry, Jav."
"And if you asked him I'm sure he'd say it was a valuable life-lesson."
All Lanie could do was shake her head, suppressing a chuckle. "Uh-huh. You go on and stick to your story." Honestly, she was torn between the little butterfly-ish thrill of knowing her sort-of boyfriend was willing to smack down creepers for her, and smacking him upside the head for being a moron. She still never had chosen one, all though she could tell you that the death threats on the butterflies still weren't working. "My point is, I wouldn't be surprised if people aren't surprised. And I definitely wouldn't be surprised if somebody or other's got a pool going."
…Well, that was a new thought. The better becomes the bet-ee? He'd have to have a 'chat' with Ryan later. Man gossiped more than Blair and Serena. Both references he'd never admit to knowing, by the way. "Okay, so, say they put two and two together. So what?"
"I thought we agreed to lay low?"
"No, we agreed to play it by ear."
"Same thing," she scoffed.
"Besides - they can't prove it."
Lanie did turn to look at him at that point, her face saying a more blatant 'yeah, right' than she herself was about to. "I don't care how good your Ferris voice is, you are not enough of an actor to sell a sick day." She kind of couldn't believe they were still having this conversation. She for sure wasn't playing any of those 'convince me' games, was not at all considering it and was about to tell him to shut up any second, mm-hm, of course she was.
"And you are?"
"Not a chance. If Beckett assigns you as morgue liaison once today, I will not be held responsible for the condition that table's left in. I'm just sayin.'"
…This was one of those 'who else heard that?' moments. Javier was powerless against a grin. Maybe thirty percent cockiness, tops, whatever. "Yeah?"
Good grief. And again, Lanie rolled her eyes. She threw a balled-up pair of hose at his head. "You know what I mean, boy. Take the compliment and move on."
Being cocky was more fun than moving on. Ah, well. There'd be time later. Javier grabbed the nylon bullet he'd dodged and whipped it square at her back. And he didn't miss. "C'mon, seriously. Leave it. Call Perlmutter and tell 'im he's on corpse duty today. He can handle it."
"Oh, and can your team handle Perlmutter?" she fired back.
"Grudgingly. Done it before, remember?"
"What about Beckett, or Ryan, huh? You'd just let them deal with a murder without you? Leavin' your partner hangin' like that. For shame."
"Hey, Ryan's a big boy. They gave him a badge and everything. Last week. He's psyched," Javier deadpanned.
"Mm-hm. And Beckett?"
"Will shoot me when I get back. But that's neither here nor there."
Lanie was pretty convinced that this boy's face needed to appear beside 'stubborn' in the dictionary. Kinda like most everyone she knew, actually. Walking back over to the bed, she sat on the edge of it, grabbing the pair of hose and raveling them up, pulling on one leg, then the other. "See? There you go. Maybe I don't want you dead. And maybe I don't want her comin' after me for 'occupying' her detective, either."
"Yeah, well, you forgot somethin.'"
He sounded closer. Was that a good thing or a 'you'll-regret-it-later' thing? Lanie didn't turn. "And what's that?"
"Maybe I want you back here."
Not giving her a chance to respond, Javier shot his arms around her waist and tugged her with him as he threw himself backward. His laugh paled behind her startled shriek as they crashed together in a puff of comforter down.
Lanie put up a struggle, but at this point, it was all play: what was the use in denying it when she couldn't stop laughing? So much for gathering her breath. "Let me go so I can make my rent payment, thank you," she managed.
"Nope. I'll reimburse you."
"On your paycheck?"
"Oh, you got somethin' to say?"
"Sorry, but we're both civil servants here. Somehow I'm just not seein' it." Yep, it was absolutely worthless pretending that she didn't love the idea anymore, but that alarm clock and the clock-in were still working against her. Preference had to defer to necessity sooner or later. Ripping off the metaphorical band-aid, Lanie untangled herself from him and pushed herself back to the edge: her outfit was nowhere near done…but neither was he, of course.
She felt the weight shift on the bed as Javier slid up behind her, and it wasn't even a full second before her protests shattered, her eyes fluttered shut in rapture, and she forgot why she'd been arguing. What other way was there to react? His lips on her neck were slow and soft, working his way from her shoulder to her jaw, each individual kiss flipping her internal organs. Oh, Lord have mercy: I'll quit my job for this. Her brain tried to form a word of protest, but it sort of died by the time it came out and ended up sounding something like "Hmnnm."
It seriously sucked not having the trump card…or, eh, maybe it wasn't so bad. She'd live, right?
"C'mon, cariña ." She felt his breath more than she heard his whisper. "Hermosa…mi única…"
Oh, sweet mother of Jesus. "…Now you stop that…" Fail. Resistance fail.
He kept in that same, persuasive tone, his hands going down her arms before she knew what was happening. "Just one day. You know you need one. Hell, I need one. A morning in, then a night out. On me."
…Okay, what was not to like about an offer like that? There was just no arguing with that, was there? After an uncharacteristically pathetic struggle to find words again, the good doctor finally picked a few. "…Maybe. Okay."
"…Seriously?" Obviously he hadn't been expecting an agreement before hell froze over.
Turning to meet his eyes, she glared playfully. "I wouldn't question it if I were you, boy. And you suck. Just in case you were wondering."
Javier laughed. "Whatever works. So, good - you can finish the tox reports tomorrow, no sweat."
And then the bubble broke. Lanie's eyes flew to a whole other width. "Wait, back up…those were due to the department today weren't they!"
Goodbye, hooky day. It was slipping away, fading…and Javier really shouldn't have been leaning into her, because Lanie immediately stood back up, and he fell over, saving his face from meeting the floor with a quick grip on the corner of the mattress. "I didn't say - "
"I am so not even done with the paperwork for that…"
"Re-lax, you can - "
"Oh, no, don't you even talk to me." The M.E. whirled around, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "I cannot believe you almost had me goin.'"
Yeah, there was just no winning. Javier dragged a hand down his face. "Lanie…" he complained.
"Nuh-uh. You had last night. Now go to work and I might think about a repeat." With the final word lowered, Lanie spun on a heel back to the contents of her closet and scanned the options there for something resembling a suit.
She heard the familiar complaints of the mattress behind her as he finally got to his feet, throwing in the world's most dramatic sigh, just in case she didn't already get the point. "Fine," she heard him declare. "I offered."
"Hey, lotta women would consider that an offer. Besides, might as well: you're just gonna wake up in a minute anyway."
…Confusing much? As much of a newfound hurry as she was in, Lanie actually paused, turned around, and gave him her best 'what are you smoking?' face. "…Care to clarify what that was supposed to mean?"
Javier shrugged, pointed at the bedside clock. "You wake up at seven, right?" …Weird…why did the clock say six fifty-nine again? Noting what must have been an extremely confused look on her face, he adopted a 'duh' one. "Oh, come on - you didn't seriously think all this was actually happening, did you?"
"Doc. Think about it. Last time you saw me for real it was at the Coffee Bean with that guy who got bludgeoned with the milk steamer. How does that make any sense in context with this?"
"Well - "
"Nope; ten seconds left," he warned, flashing her one more of those irritatingly knowing smiles of his. "If I were you I'd own up and realize you're into me pretty quick. Otherwise; this? Naw, this is gonna make you look sane."
Right on time with what Confusing/Psychic Boy said, the alarm on her table started to screech all over again. Lanie walked over to it, actually grateful to have something to occupy her stunned brain, and picked it up…but, it wouldn't stop.
"Don't bother," he told her over the noise. "But hey; we should do this for real sometime. You know you want to."
A wink that left her gaping in shock, and he was gone…and so was everything else, fading into the blackness of the insides of her eyelids. And Lanie? Well, she was suddenly horizontal again, swimming twitchily in a tangled mess of sheets, tormented by the buzzing clock until her hand on autopilot managed to slap the right 'die' button.
"…Uhhhhhhaaaagh!" No. Nuh-uh. She was not going to whimper in obvious dissappointment. No sir. Instead, she lay there for a few moments, eyes squeezed shut toward the ceiling, and cursed the absolute evil - sheer. Freaking. Evil! - that was her subconscious.
Because, dreams like that didn't necessarily have to be right, right? Of course not, because this one wasn't. No. Way. She was not going to allow that.
…Or was she.
Popping her eyes open, Lanie did four things. She shoved herself out to the edge of the bed. She dryly considered therapy. She actually considered a sick day.
And then she made her decision, standing up, shaking her head as she walked from the room. "That's it. I need dead people."
XD Yes, I know some of you are probably disappointed that it was all a dream, but that was the whole origin/purpose/idea/point of the story. It serves to prove just how much Lanie's into him and still gives us fluff at the same time. I got it in my head about four months ago and finally had to do something about it. ^^
As always, anyone ages 14 and over who're interested in roleplaying as a Castle character on a writing-based Castle roleplaying forum, please go to my profile and read the bolded paragraph/take the link/check it out. As of now, we still need people to play Montgomery, Demming, Ike, and a whole bunch of others.
So! I hope you all enjoyed. Feels like it's been awhile since I've done a oneshot. ^_^ Thank you to those of you who review, especially those who get specific about what you liked - and please do, it would make my day!
Peace and love. -CV